Sleep Schematics 101
by SanctumAsylum
Summary: As if Lightning doesn't already have enough to deal with in the wake of her parent's demise having to support her kid sister complicates everything. In trying to find stability between work and family, Lightning needs to first learn how to get some sleep.
1. Synopsis

**A/N:** I'm back and on another fanfic! Yay! So let's get started with explanations of this newborn fic:

This is based around when Lightning and Serah lost their last and only parent. In my mind, Lightning has been working hard for years now (namely in high school), but was just able to make it in to the Guardian Corps training academy roughly half a year ago.

To recap: her age in Episode Zero is: [20], the game is: [21], her father died earlier on, her mother died after when she was: [15].

I'm making her at least [17] here because she graduated high school before she went to join the Guardian Corps Bodhum Security Regiment.

As always I ask that you R&R, thank ya kindly

Obligatory Disclaimer: Do you really think I'd be writing fanfics of this story if I owned it? Nahda.

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><p><strong>Sleep Schematics 101<strong>

Synopsis

Sharp and resilient, the clang of metal hitting metal echoed off seemingly invisible walls. Two figures circling upon dirt littered grounds looked as though they were dancing in an archaic fashion; their movements calculated and precise. With every lift of a foot, dust from the dirt kicked up as they moved, prowling and circling, tolerant and waiting; anticipating the right moment where the other might misstep or wane.

_Hoping_ that they would.

Light pink hair flashed in the artificial sunlight, blue eyes narrowed predatorily; the once elegant pools of crystal, now razor-sharp shards of glass. Her cheeks were flushed pink from the on-going exertion of the battle; her arms and legs cramping with strain. Two days; this training, _this specific battle_ had been carrying on for. Two days, one night of no sleep. Two days, one night with no food or water.

_Two days_.

Crystal eyes spiked, widening for a brief moment as they watched their opponent's leg slip and falter. It was barely noticeable, but Lightning took the opening and charged full-on at her opponent; screaming finality in her dust covered wake. She swiped her saber upward, slicing her opponent straight up the middle, the man crying out and falling immediately to the ground; succumbing to the superficial wound and his over-laden exhaustion.

The scenery, deserted, dry brown dirt covering the dusty ground with ominous lurking hills in the far distance, flashed briefly of black and white lines like an old television set dying out. Then it disappeared altogether, leaving a white, pristine training hall in its standing.

Lightning swiped at the sweat on her brow. She needed to swipe at something; at anything, really. Her eyes were aching to close, but she had no intention of revealing her true exhaustion in front of any of her superiors; no much less her peers.

The saber in her hands faded, as did the saber that was flung to the ground. Her opponent still lay, puffing on the floor, sprawled and clutching his abdominal.

Perhaps the only draw-back to the high-efficiency simulator (HES) was that when someone was wounded in the simulation, they_ felt_ it as though it were reality. Mostly the pain was bearable; various small cuts in various small places left no one physically or mentally scarred. Though in some cases, _rare cases_, those wounds had made many come mentally undone. They had personnel on stand-by in case anyone lapsed in to a self-induced coma or panic.

And judging by the way her former opponent, Sohl, was writhing on the ground; the medical personnel were needed.

The young girl stepped back, watching emotionally detached as they tried to bring the man back to some sense of reality. He only screamed when they touched him, kicked when they held him and slowly, but surely, fell still as they drugged him.

Lightning had never actually been on the receiving end of an onslaught, but she imagined, from the many she gave, it was excruciatingly painful; sometimes rightfully so.

To her annoyance, many of her peers were male counter-parts. And over 90% of those males were complete and total idiots. Every here and there, there was a female, but they weren't found in the Guardian Corps division often. No, the females often strove for positions in PSICOM; which required a lot more brain and a lot less brawn. Surprise that. The only reason Lightning hadn't opted for PSICOM instead, herself, was because they were a sketchy, seedy division. Many complaints escaped from both civilians and Guardian Corps units. But besides that was the more important factor that she could work where she lived on the Bodhum Security Regiment; the plus being that her baby sister, Serah, was never too far away.

Her nose scrunched to the smell of the broken man as they lifted him from off the floor, evacuating him to a much more appropriate place. It wasn't the sweaty smell that bothered her. After a year of training and generally just being around hygiene-inadequate men, her nose grew accustomed to the pungent odor. No this odor was different. After seeing what Sohl considered his death, he must've thought and felt he died. The man had aptly urinated himself.

"Damn, Farron." One man laughed, placing his hand on Lightning's shoulder "Nothin' like overkill, don't you think?"

She smacked the offending contact away, her face never changing as she spoke. "The object is to debilitate your opponent. And you'd do well to know: there is no such thing as overkill."

"Yeah, but we've been told to take it easy on each other. You know there's a glitch in the system, right?"

Lightning scoffed, taking the towel sitting off to the side graciously as she walked towards the showers. "Simulation troubles aren't my area of expertise. If you babies have a problem with the glitch: go train in the sandbox with your wooden toys."

The gathered men stayed silent, watching until the beautiful and equally terrifying enigma disappeared from sight; from sound.

"That's one _damn cold_ girl."


	2. Lesson 1:0

Obligatory Disclaimer: Nunka mine. I just lahk to manipulate already owned/created characters to my every whim *evil laugh*

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><p><strong>Lesson.1.0:<strong>

Learning How to Lose

Autonomous.

In one word Lightning could be described. She was as exciting as a blank wall, as straight as a pin. More than a father, more than a mother; she was strict, sovereign and cold. The only true feelings she harbored were the ones directed toward her baby sister and even those were still far from reaching an open shore.

Her sister, Serah, probably hadn't so much as seen Lightning smile since she was thirteen. May hap as tragic as that may be, Lightning felt the need for emotions was an empty one; one that only caused problems and got in the way of better judgment. To be a soldier, she had to act like one. And acting like one required a 'no capacity' law for things like mercy, understanding. She had ditched those ideals long ago; her soul hollowed out much like the shell of Cocoon; her emotions as frozen as the water beating down on her naked flesh.

Icy blue eyes fixed their gaze upward, staring aimlessly at the shower head of which the cold droplets produced from. Her arms were forced to her sides, having abandoned the very human need to keep warmth in her system. She shivered gently as the icy waters cascaded down her body, pooling at her feet before draining down the pipes. No steam ever came from the showers when Lightning entered. No men ever came from the showers when Lightning entered. Not a soul dare venture in to the locker room while she resided there. A particular occurrence she took full advantage of.

Lightning hadn't needed the social contact. She cared not for the small-talk or the banter one would associate with peers or co-workers. It was tedious and took away from the efforts of work. They were here for a job, not to play around and hike up their skirts. Besides, all they ever did was moan and groan about the budget cuts to the Guardian Corps division. Yes, the budget was inflexible when it came to Guardian Corps, so what? There was nothing anyone could or actually _would_ do about it, so why complain?

The HES was a bust as they knew it, having as many glitches as it did, yet having none of the resources to fix them. There were outdated classroom tools as well as outdated weapons for use. And as if having to use cave-men technology wasn't bad enough, half of the equipment only worked on good days, if they were lucky; unlike the water-heater which had broken months ago and had yet to be fixed. Not that she minded. Having an ice-cold shower was better than having caffeine fixes to wake up. After a night of no sleep, that was fairly important to her.

With the delicate snap of her hand, the water immediately shut off, the last of the remaining flow sounding off its descent in to the pipes below.

She stepped away from the marble stall. Anything for_ looks_ seemed to be justified within the budget though, she thought as she gazed at the glossy appliances, so long as no one knew the internal problems, external appearances could be kept up with. Lightning swiftly grabbed the towel she had placed near her, wasting no time in wrapping it tightly around her frame. With more balance and purpose in her step after the revitalizing shower, she moved to the sinks where she left her clothes in a neatly folded pile on top of the black marble counter-tops; perhaps the only decoration that wasn't white in the entire training school.

Swiping at the pile of clothing, Lightning clamped her fist around the fabric, her gaze torn from the offending mirrors to the belt sitting idly atop her pile. Mirrors never did a person any good. It only made them vain and worry about looks rather than priority. Her top priority was killing and surviving. Looks never fit in the equation. She vaguely noted the sound of her wet feet slapping against tile flooring when her brain decided to catch up with her eyes.

Her belt was on top of her clothes. But under her weapon holster even the belt-buckle would have been practically invisible; seeing as the being of her holster was not small enough to allow a glimpse of the object. She ran a hand softly over the edges of her buckle and grimaced. No doubt one of those men,_ ahem_, _boys_ took pride in playing a practical joke on the ever-cold, ever-silent Lightning Farron. No doubt she would end up re-arranging their face for them once she found out who the offender was.

Her ears twitched as she heard a familiar click followed by a very familiar swipe. Apparently the offender was still in the locker room. And by the sounds of it, he was handling her weapon improperly. In all technicalities, she would admit, it wasn't truly_ her_ weapon. Weapons were provided for handling practice to all training officers; there was only so much the HES could replicate. And weapon wielding, while a big part of it, wasn't 100% accurate while in the HES, thus giving students a need for real weapons. Still, despite the objects obvious signs of overuse, she treated the weapon as though it were, indeed, her own. Ice eyes formed in to their own sort of lethal weapon as she marched out of the showers and in to the locker area. Whoever it was, he was going to seriously regret ever messing with her _or _her weapon.

Rounding the corner, Lighting was ready to drop her clothes and manage a choke-hold until she recognized the person before her. She stopped short, the smacking of her feet silencing at the sudden suspension of her movements. Her breath hitched, her chest rising with the heave.

Out of all the men she had come in to contact with, out of all the men she had thought would even challenge to play a filthy trick on her; she would have never guessed _him_.

Her mouth proceeded before her brain decided to join. Seems her functions were still moving particularly slow today.

"Sir." She addressed the General, still wondering if she should have phrased the custom in the form of a question, but her brain didn't seem to be in the mood to ponder that; nor did it care enough to.

"That was an impressive fight you put on display there, Farron." The Brigadier General turned her gun-blade over in his hand again and again almost as if questioning how she was able to wield the weapon so delicately.

"Thank you, Sir." She nodded, forsaking the thought of bowing in the event a few of her goodies were feeling 'good' enough to peak out. Lightning didn't need the Brigadier General of the largest Guardian Corps unit: The Wide-Area Response Brigade, more widely known as the 'cavalry', getting a bad first impression of her because of an inability to keep her towel on; even if it wasn't her fault that he walked in at such a moment.

His eyebrow arched, one bronze eye taking in the full view of Lightning clad in only a towel. The sight made him want to chuckle, but with a girl as brisk as she, he knew there was no room for such formalities. It surprised him that she was, at the very least, entertaining even some semblance of conversation with him after he had stolen her most prized possession and caught her in a most private manner. And yet she still had the mind to thank him while she stood half-naked only a few feet away.

Cid closed the weapon and replaced it in her holster, extending his arm for her accessibility. Seemingly unfazed, Lightning approached the General and graciously accepted the weapon, placing it rightfully atop her clothing where it belonged.

"Two days." He mused, letting his hand fall to his side "I think I'd like to test the waters myself, before long."

Her blue eyes respectfully roamed from his toes to the top of his head where the tresses of his oil-black hair flowed. She gave him a once over, seeing as this was her first time meeting the man in person. He was talked of greatly with much esteem and she had yet to understand why. Her skepticism coursed from every pore on her body as she narrowed her eyes to meet his. To say he was impressive, would be no lie, but to say he was beyond and above all others, to worship the ground he walked on as most soldiers did, Lightning could not attest to. As her superior, she would respect him in the ways that were proper. As her mentor, she would listen to him. But as a man, her only opinion rested on border-line hatred. After all, one does not make good first impressions by stealing another's weapon.

She turned away to set her clothes on top of a nearby bench so that she could fix her towel which she felt was slowly, but surely slipping.

"What do you have to say for yourself, soldier?"

Lightning froze. Her body paused in the movement of placing her items on the bench. Quickly setting out to straighten her posture, she secured her towel with the latch of her thumb and finger and walked back toward him.

"I'm ready when you are."

Softly he chuckled. The blatant cold seeping through her eyes was more damaging than what any fire could manage. "I'm ready _now_." He said, knowing full well that she would have to back away from the fight if she wanted even a slim chance at winning. Right now, she was far too spent with the two-day fight before. Even her eyes told him that she knew this.

Cid knew she was smart enough to know when to back away from a fight. He had already heard many rumors about the quickly rising soldier; especially the surprise on her being a young woman. Perhaps that was the main reason as to why the news traveled so fast.

"If you'll allow me to dress, Sir, I will be as well."

His brows furrowed together, confusion knitting itself in every corner of his face. _That_ was certainly an unexpected answer. He thought her limitations were obvious even to her, herself. And while he still had no doubt that she knew she was nearing her limit, he would be one to guess that she intended to stretch herself as far as she could go. But he wasn't going to be the one to stop her. A soldier needed to learn when to heed the warnings their bodies were signaling. He was just going to have to help her learn that lesson the hard way.

"In that case: I'll be waiting in the training hall."

She nodded and watched his form disappear around the corner of the locker room, the heavy door sounding with a distant boom. It wouldn't take her long to dress. General or no General, he was going to regret messing with her.

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><p>Cid stood apart from the myriad of onlookers that had gathered at his entrance. If his looks weren't enough to set him apart from the rest, then his demeanor sealed the deal. While perceived as cold and distant from afar, up close and personal it wasn't hard to tell that he was kind, caring and informative.<p>

He was not only admired by both men and women alike for his looks, but for his personality.

Waving his hand at the technicians, his robe falling back in the crook of his elbow, Cid approached the machine responsible for the HES. "Another training battle will commence soon. I ask that all technicians and medics remain on standby."

A round of confusion crossed the faces in the room; the technicians most perplexed by this and perhaps most aggravated as well. They looked none-too-pleased as they rebooted the machine and set up the simulation. The onlookers however seemed to fare much better under the light of this news. A few soldiers threw an excited fist in the air to see a battle involving Cid Raines.

It was rare Cid ever visited the trainees, even less so that he battled one. His busy schedule as a Guardian Corps General didn't allow much flexibility in his time. He had witnessed quite a few simulation battles take place beforehand; the variation between each was slim, as if seeing one was enough to constitute seeing them all.

Cid glanced back toward the locker room (/showers) as he heard the heavy door leading to it boom close.

One simple battle and _she _had changed his mind. Lightning Farron. The way she moved, acted and spoke led to an entertaining battle under any pretense. Her will was strong, her movements powerful. Cid smirked slightly at the grimace of detest on her face. But she was still young. She had yet to learn when to quit. Limitations were basic. Defeat was basic. Lightning had tasted neither.

"_Lightning's_ taking on the General?" a soldier yelled in disbelief from another corner of the room, sending a wave of commotion over the onlookers.

"If you don't mind…" She spoke softly, but lethally enough to kill "…I'd like to get a move on with this battle before you attract _more_ attention."

Cid chuckled. "Certainly, Cadet."

With those words he had no doubt ruffled the last of her fur, infuriating her to no end. This time he hadn't referred to her as a soldier and he was positive she took it as an insult.

"HES initiation in 5…4...3…2…1!"

White training hall, filled with an anxious crowd, disappeared from sight replacing white with the dusty brown abandoned terrain of an imaginary field surrounded by ominous, far-away mountains.

Lightning scoffed. "Brigadier General or not…I _won't_ take it easy on you."

"Nor shall I, _trainee_."

A gun-blade materialized in each of the opponents' hands, digitizing from the realm and taking form in their grip.

Crystal eyes narrowed.

Static sounded as a voice seemingly entered the territory, reaching from the height of the skies to the depths of the earth under their feet.

"HES stable. Commencing combat simulation: _Now_."

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><p><strong>AN:** Okay, so that was a pretty fast update! ;D I had this chapter in tow though, so please don't be disappointed if the updates aren't as quick anymore. Work is picking up in pace again and I doubt I'll be able to update as often as some might want. I apologize in advance for this inconvenience.

8D As always: I ask that you review! I'd LOVE LOVE LOVE to hear from you. Any thoughts are welcomed! Flames will be used to keep my toes nice and warm.


	3. Lesson 1:1

**Lesson.1.1**

With a snap, something ripped on the side of her. The pressure gave way, twisting in to a burning pain. She pulled away, instinctively breaking free, escaping.

Cid landed a hit. As if she need add any more salt to the gaping, open, flesh wound; she would be loathsome to admit he was able to strike her within seconds of initializing their battle, all the more irritating while he was perfectly immobile. The slice in her arm, clean and precise, wept its protest in blood, her fingers curling tightly around the assaulted bicep. Red cascaded its publication past the cracks between each finger, snaking between and around every dip and curve on her thin hand.

"Damn." Lightning said with a rushed exhale, mentally corralling the tattered remnants of her pride and tucking them away.

It was obvious he was baiting her and patiently waiting for her to wear herself out. Only then would he make his move and strike; cheap way to fight for a Brigadier General. Nonetheless it wouldn't be hard to wear out after two days of fighting. Lightning was going to have to act regardless of his strategy. Two days of straight fighting would be taking its toll on her body once the effect of the cold shower wore away.

_Seems like that_, she thought precariously, glaring at life's liquid tumbling from her arm, _might already be happening. _

Refocusing on his statuesque form, Lightning replaced her hand on her weapon. The metal was cold, inflexible to the touch. She could have mistaken the imitation for something physical, genuine; if it hadn't have been for the sharply cut corners lacking their edge, she might have. Of all the models she had been given to use for practice, not one of those lacked an edge that possessed the ability to lacerate. Budget cuts could be at the root of blame for this problem as well. Any imperfect weapons went in to storage for classroom use with little to no cost to the Academy. Personally, she preferred the scoring edges of inadequacy, but the blade that lie in her hand now, seamless and unmarred, teemed with her inner objective. It suited all the she was striving for.

Thoughts crammed aside, the cadet narrowed her eyes, readied her weapon and stormed her opponent. Cid raised his hand, eloquently almost, as Lightning struck with the speed and fury that her name pledged her to claim. She flipped backward at the sound of clashing sabers, dodging any swipe he may throw her way. She realized she couldn't tell; it was difficult to read him. His movement was close to none as he stood in one place and waited for her onslaught.

In opposition to her previous thoughts and beliefs, Lightning looked up in time to find Raines running at her, his own weapon poised at his side.

There was no time to dart or dodge the movement with a skip to the flank; instead she raised her gun-blade, the weapons sparking between them as they met in a hard hit. She was pushed back by his strength, her feet caving underneath her, compensating balance on her back as she landed with a stiff thud, dirt kicking up around her. Cid followed her suit, tumbling to the ground on top of her; his force relying on her inability to keep her legs stable.

"Lightning." He ground out, as if in both of testing her name on his tongue and of reprimanding her stalwart persistence to fight.

Loathing the way his golden eyes skimmed over her, like she was something broken, she straightened on the floor, inadvertently jarring her tender arm beneath the force of the blades and the rough terrain at her back. A cry slithered out her lips.

She could cope with anger, preferred it even. Let him be fuming. His solicitous pity she could do without.

He didn't miss the sound, and his pity-laced eyes deepened further in their succor.

Brows plunging in blatant annoyance, Lightning pressed him back with her saber as hard as she could, throwing him off to take advantage of his distracted sight for as long as was possible. She'd be damned if he pitied _her_. Kicking his legs, she forced him to fall to his knees before bounding and proceeding to shoot at him. Three bullets missed their mark; one tore through the flesh of his shoulder.

A seething gasp left his mouth. But to his credit, he pushed past the pain, regained his equanimity and straightened his posture before she had a chance to unleash another assault on his body. The previous one already had him twitching against the superficial wounds. He was just lucky the bullets missed his head.

Lightning refused to pause for even a second. His face twisted in to a grimace as he noticed she was repositioning for another onslaught.

Her movements were progressively sluggish, though. She knew her body couldn't take much more abuse before collapsing from sheer exhaustion. The legs hauling her weight were wobbly at best, her arm struggling to lift the blade, her hand constantly loosening and re-tightening to keep its grip. Sweat trickled from her brow, exertion locating itself in each crease on her countenance, every joint in her body. Her mouth opened wider to gasp larger intakes of breath as she was losing her energy, her tenacity. The conflict with fatigue looked much harder than the one occurring before them.

Tossing the weapon up, Lightning caught the cutting edge in her hand, swinging the solid hilt in the direction of his head and releasing the hold on her weapon. Fortuitously, for him, her actions were slow, permitting him to circumvent the certain concussion of the soaring bludgeon by a thread.

Lightning sailed passed his body while he dodged her speeding blade, arm extended as she gained momentum before she tucked and rolled, sliding to a clear halt as she caught the weapon. Frustration filled her thoughts as she turned back around to find him standing as still as a statue; his face as inanimate as he, himself.

_Why hasn't this ended yet?_ She needed a kill. And fast.

Pins and needles had taken up residence in her fingers and hands by now; a sensation known as paresthesia. Not that anyone, save herself, knew it by that term. No, if she had been asked to explain it to any other soldier, she would simply say 'my hands are falling asleep'. Not that she talked to any of those bone-heads anyway. Nonetheless, she knew her body was giving her an ultimatum; telling her that she needed to let emotions sub-side and bring clear, rapid thinking to the forefront of her mind.

She clenched and unclenched her fist. Her hand was aching with the pain of gashing her palm from her previous move. Surely, grabbing the blade wasn't the smartest, but had the hilt contacted with the General's head all would have been worth it. It was really too bad that she'd missed.

Cid broke the silence "If you feel the need to end this at any given moment: Just yell for them to stop."

"You'd _like_ that wouldn't you?" she bit out the words in her fury, each dripping with the malice she felt.

"That's not what I-"

"_Time to end this!"_

Bronze eyes widened at the sudden burst of energy the girl seemed to acquire as she darted across the field to his position. In response, he jumped in to the air narrowly escaping the blitz of her saber. What he wasn't expecting was for her to follow.

Launching in to the air after him, Lightning clanged her blade against his, retracting the weapon as quick as she hit before ultimately attacking again. It was with no practiced ease that she kept swinging at him or that he kept blocking her assault with the saber of his own. He felt his own brow lining with sweat as she continued batting at him.

Falling to the ground, she took no time in meeting his blade once again with her own, chancing for an opening; _any_ opening.

A tirade of slashes flew in his direction, each one missing its intended mark or bouncing off the reciprocated dodge of his own weapon; metal clashing angrily against metal.

The counterfeit yet somehow genuine blade in her hand seemed to represent each and every individual emotion she felt. Scorching odium pierced through the sharp tip, aiming for the kill when Cid would block the move. It was as though her weapon and body were one entity.

Cid grunted from the sheer power of her impacts, falling back a couple of inches. He slammed forward, forcing her to jump back and re-load another barrage of attacks.

Lightning repositioned her blade. Cid repositioned his.

Two shots discharged.

Both remained fixed, quiet. The air of the simulation had made it quiet before, but this quiet…it was dead silence. No scuffling of feet or clashing of weapons could be heard. Lightning froze in her stance, Cid in his.

In the replicated breeze, the false scene that was a desolate landscape: the two felt completely alone.

Suddenly, the scene flickered and died, revealing, once more, the pristine white of the training hall. With that notion, life caught up.

IIIIIII

His weapon dematerialized in to thin air, his cape falling around his body loosely when he chanced to stand straight. He looked to his aching shoulder, the scar healed, blood wiped clean from the fabrics. Prior experience told him the ache would not fade for at least a week. Prior experience told him neither would Farron's.

Absently rubbing the tender area, Cid noted the medics approaching his position. He hoped they would get to Farron first, he saw her take the bullet to her upper left arm. She had to be feeling a profuse amount of pain at moment's notice even if, in reality, her bone was nothing if able-bodied. He imagined his injury fared much better than hers; her bullet had barely scraped his already damaged shoulder, while, in comparison, his bullet hadn't missed its mark. No doubt it felt as though it shattered her entire Humerus. Cid never aimed to kill; a soft spot he wouldn't fully admit to possessing.

"_Don't touch me!_" the voice brought him back to his surroundings, thoughts forsaken to the woman currently smacking away a medic and charging toward him. "The simulation may be over, but this fight's far from finished!"

IIIIIII

She cursed urgently, pain ringing through her arm as though someone were taking a long screw and drilling it through that one spot; as if the bullet had gotten stuck on replay and continued tearing through her flesh at high speeds; shattering bone.

Lightning barely noticed the simulated world vanishing around her. The last of its fragments lay in the sword still clutched tightly in her hand. When she finally realized her weapon wasn't real, she grasped helplessly at it as it started fading, her last chance of winning disappearing in to thin air.

She growled as the audience came back in to view, as the simulated life she came to recognize was replaced by the very physical, very demanding reality of life. Cid's wounds, she noted angrily, dissolved with them. But then, hers did just the same.

No longer was there a wound under her numb hand; no shattered bone in her left arm, no scar on her right. All that remained was pain; copious amounts of agonizing pain. This kind of pain was enough to send a full-grown man in to shock. But not Lightning. She wouldn't allow her body to cushion the blow; she wouldn't give it the satisfaction of controlling her. Rather…she wouldn't give _him_ the satisfaction of seeing it.

Her lips thinned in to a firm line as she watched a medical personnel run towards her. The man came upon her, an arm reaching for her shoulder.

A smack resounded through the hall as she swatted the nurse's hand away.

"_Don't touch_ _me!_" The ice shooting through her eyes made the man shiver in response and stand away. He had no desire to argue, especially when Lightning was making a face that told the nurse that this particular soldier would rip his arm off the next time he tried. Suddenly her attention diverted from the medical staff to Cid, her eyes gleaming with an angry fire. And he knew. "The simulation may be over, but this fight's far from finished!"

The thunderous roar of the spectators carried in volume and momentum as she charged. Lightning made no delay in moving in and punching Cid's side, but he easily blocked the move only serving to increase her blind fury. She stepped away to pop him in the face and was, again, outmaneuvered. Her fist broke contact with his palm as quickly as they had connected, exhaling hard whenever she touched him as though his skin was a boiling layer of acid rather than human flesh.

It was obvious Lightning had finally snapped of her reasoning. All of her collective frustrations having finally burst forth from her body, pelting him with the stones of her determination to succeed. Quite clearly, she wanted to see Cid on his knees, broken and injured.

Adrenaline pumped through her blood, numbing the effects of the pain corroding at the inside of her arm. She panted heavily, her knuckles white and bloodless where they clenched. Several strands of hair hung in her face. The light pieces of hair fluttered with her every exhalation.

She swung at him wildly without planting her feet or putting her body in to it. What little energy she had left was spent screaming and yelling when she should have been focusing on inflicting the utmost damage. Her attacks hit with the heat of anger, but backed up by the poor excuse of already spent strength they did nothing to threaten Cid.

Fist after fist, she tossed back and retried. Lightning's resolve wouldn't fade, her legs danced perilously, reflexed, soared and stooped with the jerking movements of her arms. She came very close to landing a hit; and in one fell swoop it all ended.

As she twisted to kick Cid, with any luck in the general area of his pretty face, a great weight struck her in the back. Lightning was unable to cry her surprise as she hit the ground with bone-jarring force, her head going light with the impact, her eyes losing recognition of the world around her. Sputtering, the cold floor filled her mouth, eating up her vision.

Then she noted there were hands. On her, over her; hands clasping her own hands in restraint against her limp back, hauling her from the tangled fray of momentary unconsciousness and back to the current situation. She blinked past the black, surfaced through the gray and broke in to a foggy-hued veracity.

Voices clamored around her, congesting the air and adding to the vivacious sting in her head. She winced and tried to tell them all to just: _shut up_. But her mouth was suffocated by marble.

Lightning shook her head, twisted her neck and winced at the pain slowly resurfacing. Due to her now cognizant mind, her less than pleasant arm's position was beginning to give way to ripping agony.

"Get. _Off_." She demanded, emphasizing the word "off" by thrashing her shoulders back at him.

"Farron" Cid loomed above her, the sound of her name a livid bite on his tongue.

She yanked her arm sharply, agony hissing past her teeth. She fought it, swallowed down the pain, the bile that rose up in her throat as she fought to remind her and her body that her arm was _not _broken.

"Stop struggling." He ground out, grabbing her shoulders, holding her secure under him. He steeled above her, utterly motionless. "You're only hurting yourself."

Voicing her discontent in a snarl, Lightning bit out what was left of her ebbing energy before deciding it would only benefit her if she were to obey; despite greatly not wanting to. With a sigh, she shifted her body so that her right arm would receive the brunt of the weight. "I won't move as long as you _get off_ me, Raines."

His eyebrows rose "So if I get off…you won't move?"

"Yes…" she rolled her eyes and couldn't refrain from tacking on "Thank you for regurgitating what I already said."

He removed from her very slowly, obviously doubtful of her word. She admitted, he had reason to be cynical, but she couldn't help the stitch of indignation weave its way in to her skin, making her bitter about his misgiving. After giving her word, she _never_ fell back on it. But then, Cid didn't know her. Nobody did.

Standing erect, Cid heaved a sigh, waiting for Lightning to make a move; alas she did no such thing. She kept as solid as a rock, as frozen as ice. Her word preserved. He respected as much.

"Help her up." He commanded, giving stern looks to the medical personnel as they exchanged concerned glances.

"Save it." Lightning snapped, making the decision for the nurses before any could opinionate their displeasure. Cringing as she pressed off the floor, her world fell in a series of hot white flashes of torture stemming from her arm before she was able to crawl to her feet.

Cid impatiently stepped forward. "You _need_ the medical attention, Farron."

"_I _know _best_ what my body needs…" she stood; crooked and wincing, but she stood.

Bronze eyes tapered, firmly glaring at the soldier practically kneeling before him. Her pride was obviously the most important thing to her at this point and he couldn't understand why. Cid sighed. He could command her to do as she was told, forcing her to take the medical procedures regardless of her protests. But he couldn't bring himself to speak the demand. It seemed so easy, yet in the face of the young soldier, he was speechless.

Perhaps because he secretly knew medical attention could not cure the depths of her suffering. He saw the hardened ice in her eyes blocking others from seeing something more; deterring them from looking deeper and seeing the truth to her stiff mannerisms and cold calculations; keep others thinking that she didn't need anything or anyone. But he could firmly see she did.

In the irises made of ice, he saw that medical attention would be insignificant to this woman.

She required care in the form of a person.

"In that case…" he spoke finally, Lightning glaring at him in response "…you're discharged from the rest of your obligations. Go home, Farron."

Her eyes lost their frost at the last of his words, widening despite her control. It wasn't hard to see that she was expecting him to 'order' her to receive the medical help. And even though she was slightly piqued at him discharging her, she was in no position to argue, what with one hand on her arm and the rest of her body swaying like a building with its foundation crumbling. Needless to say: she _felt_ like a building with its foundation crumbling.

Losing her vigor, Lightning half-heartedly chest-saluted to her superior before turning and, in spite of her best efforts, teetering back to the locker rooms. The door slammed closed behind her as she collapsed in to a crumpled heap on the tile floors.

Her head crashed against the heavy door in an attempt to redirect the sting, but nothing was working. Try as she might, her labored breathing only increased; her throbbing only intensifying with every halation of life's air. Grinding her teeth against one another, Lightning pounded her fist in to her head, choking at the aching wave that resurfaced images of the bullet piercing her body. Her hand flew around her throat as she leaned forward, retching at the floor.

If her mind was trying to expel the horrifying experience through vomiting, the commitment didn't seem to be making a connection.

Grotesque noises of her dry heaves filled the empty Locker Room and Showers, driving silence out of every crevasse; replacing it by means of her hacking. Her body shook with the exertion, trembling, shaking her to the core while her ears filled with the horrid gargling noises. She was sure they could hear her; positive that _everyone _in the entire building could hear her. For a minute she worried that someone would happen upon her in her feeble state. As far as she was concerned: _no one_ needed to see _that_.

A gargling heave ripped itself from deep in her gut, releasing the noise aside some company. Lightning grimaced upon tasting acid, her body expelling it instantaneously.

Tiled, echoing walls fell silent with her on her last retch. Sweat dripped quietly from her brow to the floor as she gasped and leaned her head back against the only thing supporting her. The door, ever strong and ever sustaining only remained as it were. Perhaps that was why she liked inanimate objects much more than the humans that created them. Walls, doors and even weapons: they could not talk. They could support, they could assist and they could listen. Even though the words that were chosen to be spilled bounced right off, they could never go telling anyone else what had been spoken around them.

With humans, it was much more difficult. Souls of humans were easily twisted; corroded by things like power and money. It was difficult to trust someone when they were so effortlessly warped. Besides, trust already never came easily to Lightning. And when it finally _did _come, the people she trusted seemed to disappear in rapid succession. Perhaps that was why she didn't trust her sister, her own _sister_, with anything. To put trust in Serah would mean she might lose her. And Lightning would much rather lose Serah due to her inability to open up rather than to death, which was much more terminable.

Was it a lonely existence? Sure. Was it rewarding? Not in the least. The only perks she gained rested in the knowledge that her secrets would never be revealed. Her deepest, darkest emotions and moments never to be shared with anyone except the creations man had made.

Doors, walls, windows and weapons didn't possess ears.

Nor did they possess hearts.

* * *

><p>AN: Wow! Sorry this took so long to produce. I hope I didn't disappoint on any expectations.

Of course Lightning _had_ to lose. It's part of her lessons on growing up (and she lost against him in the game when she attacked him in pure rage…which she has done in my story as well. AND the title of this lesson is "learning how to lose" for goodness sakes, you'd think I'd try to give _some _element of surprise).

Go straight to Review (or favorite 8D) if you don't wanna read the rest of this note ;D cuz Imma do a bit of explaining here for those curious.

Even though the injury Lightning sustained may seem superfluous, an injury similar to this was able to bring a grown man (big, huge, 6ft5", scary guy: my father) to tears and passing out. I imagined that Lightning's reactions to the wound weren't far off from what it could have been. I didn't want to go too overboard, but I_ did_ want to express her pain from both inner torment and superficial wounds. At this point, she's younger, angrier and finding her way to cope with loss. Maybe not the best ways to cope…but we'll give her points for trying :D

On reality news, expect the next post to take just as long (if not longer), because my life is in a busy heap right now and I'm not making much effort to write OR get online at all. xD

If you have any other questions, feel free to drop me a line in a review!

Until next time, when family issues are introduced to the story, I bid you all adieu.


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